God Complex
by caffeinekitty
Summary: "You forgot that my war and yours were always meant to be two separate things. I love all humanity equally, right?"   Durarara!/Supernatural cross-over


_**Originally posted at the Drrr Kinkmeme in response to this prompt:**_

_Shizaya or Shizuo/Kasuka - BROMANCE_

_I want Kasuka as Sam, Shizuo as Dean, and Izaya as Castiel. Just a little crack drabble is fine. _

**Note : Spoilers for Supernatural Season 6, if there's _anyone_ left by now who doesn't know how it ends XD**

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><p><span>God Complex<span>

Everything in the diner makes enough noise to scrape little daggers along the inside of his skull. Every time someone clanks a plate or turns on the coffee machine, Shizuo thinks his head's going to explode. Actually, exploding sounds preferable.

Kasuka's not helping, tapping away at his laptop and picking distractedly at something undoubtedly healthy on the plate next to him. Shizuo stares at the stuff on his plate that'd sounded so much more appetizing when he ordered it. Grease with a side order of sausage. Perfect hangover cure, usually, except he's pretty sure he has one of those imperfect hangovers that nothing short of a coma can touch.

Since they arrived, the blonde waitress has gone from one button undone at the collar of her too-tight uniform to three. She stops at their table with a little half-hop that makes her breasts jiggle right in his line of sight.

"Can I get you boys anything else?"

"No," Kasuka looks up briefly. "Thanks."

Shizuo drains his glass, before handing it back to the waitress. He grins as he licks the milk from his upper lip. "Fill 'er up."

Kasuka's staring at him when the waitress has finished blushing long enough to wander away.

"What?"

"Nothing." Kasuka holds up his hands in a placating gesture, but he's still frowning at him from beneath messy bangs. "I just thought you might've had enough, that's all."

"No such thing." Shizuo asserts, still grinning as he leans back against the torn vinyl of the booth, one arm stretched across the back of the seats. "I'm a growing boy."

Kasuka snorts softly, turning his attention back to the laptop. "I wasn't talking about the milk."

"Heh, neither was I."

The waitress comes back with his milk. He thinks maybe another button on her uniform is undone. If he orders anything else, it'll be open to her navel. When he unfolds the check she's left tucked under the glass, another scrap of paper with her cell phone number on it slips out.

It's only polite to keep it, but the way he feels right now – seriously, getting beaned with a grand piano didn't feel this bad – he won't do anything about it. Whatever the hell he did last night, Kasuka's pissed off about it. His brother's even more quiet than usual.

Scratching the back of his neck, he mumbles "…Oi, Kasuka, I—"

"Okay." Kasuka interrupts him, turning the laptop around. "If you can keep it in your pants long enough, I think this is our next job."

"Look, I told you, I was drunk and—"

"I know. You said." Kasuka's studying one corner of the scratched laptop case. "Do you know how much you have to drink to _get_drunk?"

Shizuo pauses, thinks. "A… lot?"

Kasuka nods. "And you know how we're in a different motel this morning to the one we _were_in yesterday?"

He cringes. "I broke shit, didn't I?"

"The bed, the dresser, half the bathroom and, for _some_ reason," he thinks maybe there's a flush on his brother's face, "two curtain rails. Two. And the manager said five other guests complained that someone singing 'You Shook Me All Night Long" - _badly _- at four in the morning was beyond tolerable."

That's the most Kasuka's said to him all morning – actually, probably all week – and Shizuo kind of wishes he hadn't bothered.

He ducks his head sheepishly. "I'll pay you back."

"Yeah." Kasuka watches him over the top of the laptop lid. "You will."

"So…" He squints at the screen, where the top window displays a news article from some small town paper. "What've we got?"

"Five people have been attacked in that town in the past week."

"Well, sucks for them…" He takes a sip of his milk, continuing to skim-read the article. "Doesn't mean it's anything on our radar."

"No…" Kasuka reaches around the screen and, without looking, switches to a new window.

"Hey, I was in the middle of that!"

Kasuka ignores his protest. "This is a cached page of one of the attack victims' forum log the day after."

He scrolls down the page, watching the ordinary, boring conversation morph into a string of single character ramblings. _Kill, kill, kill._ And, kinda bizarrely, _love, love, love._

"Huh." He shrugs, looking up at Kasuka. "Maybe the keys got stuck?"

"Maybe," Kasuka agrees. "No one knows. That guy went missing the next day and no one's heard from him since."

Shizuo relents with a noncommittal nod. "Looks like might be worth checking out."

"I wouldn't bother," a new voice cuts in, and suddenly there's a brand new weight against the arm Shizuo's resting on the back of the booth. He's so startled, yanks his arm back so instinctively, that the _other_ hand, the one holding the milk, jolts. Ice-cold milk splashes over the front of his pants. Izaya peers at the white, wet mess and raises a brow. "Oops."

"Fuck, Izaya…!" He glares, snatching napkins from the dispenser to wipe up the mess. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

Izaya blinks. "Nothing." Then points at himself. "Flawless overseer of all creation, remember?"

"Flawless my ass…"

"Well—"

"Shut the fuck _up_." He warns, a threat that might be more persuasive if he isn't waving milk-soaked napkins in Izaya's face. "Not one fucking word. Okay? Or I swear I'll…"

Izaya shrugs, looking nonplussed. "If that's what you want. Anyway, you don't need to waste your time chasing this one up. It's being taken care of."

"How do you know?" He scowls sceptically.

"He is God now," Kasuka says helpfully. Izaya sits back in the booth, hands primly folded on his lap and _smiles._In a Godlike sort of way. Shizuo wants to smash the ass's face into the table.

"Yeah, yeah…"

Izaya picks at the sleeve of his coat. "Your lack of respect is showing, Shizu-chan."

"Bite me."

Instead, Izaya stares at his abandoned plate, wiping off a spare set of cutlery on a napkin. "Are you going to eat that?"

"Tch…" With a disgruntled sigh, he pushes the plate across. "Since when the hell do you have to eat?"

"I don't have to." Izaya spears a sausage delicately, watching him as he nibbles one end until Shizuo feels uncomfortable enough to look away. "I just like to. That's what Shizu-chan wanted, right? For me to enjoy the little things."

"Yeah. And maybe for you to stop seeing humanity like your own personal Toys'r'us."

Izaya looks puzzled. Then there's a flutter of invisible wings, a breeze that sends the fork clattering back onto the plate and the check and the waitress's phone number fluttering to the floor. By the time Shizuo retrieves them, Izaya's back. He's carrying a little helium balloon shaped like a frog, and two garish boxes. He sets the one with the remote controlled robot in front of Kasuka, and the one with the pneumatically stacked Barbie in front of Shizuo.

"…the fuck is this?"

"You seemed fascinated by that waitress' chest." Izaya observes, right at the moment said waitress walks by their table. She stares at him, and Shizuo offers his best 'you don't really think I'm _with _this idiot, do you?' smile. "I thought you might enjoy playing with something with less plastic in it."

The waitress all but squeals in indignation, snatching her phone number back off the table and stomping off back to the kitchen. Izaya looks rather satisfied with his work.

Shizuo wonders if he'll go to hell for killing God by stabbing him in the head with a Barbie. Probably. Again. But really, he thinks they might go easy on him this time.

He scowls at Kasuka when his brother takes the robot out of the box, fiddling with the controls until it stomps and whirrs across the table, bumping into the cups.

"Stop that."

"Why?" Kasuka looks up at him, that slightly dazed 'I've got a new gadget and I just don't _care_' gleam in his eyes. "I always wanted one of these."

"See?" Izaya says. "Kasuka-kun appreciates his present. Of course, if you had a functional family, he might have gotten the playing with toys phase out of his system _before_ his twenties." When Izaya looks back at him, it's with affront. "Anyway. I resent the implication that humans are my _playthings_, Shizu-chan."

It's a good thing most of his milk is all over his lap, 'cause _that_ would've made him snort it through his nose.

"They just don't know what's good for them." Izaya sits back, arms folded across his chest. "And I do. I'd be failing in my duties if I didn't provide proper guidance. And besides… tampering with works of art is frowned upon, ne?"

"You didn't care much about that when it suited you."

"I did what had to be done. A little gratitude wouldn't have gone amiss, Shizu-chan."

"Tch…"

"So, Kasuka-kun…" Izaya ties the frog balloon to the sugar dispenser, plucking at the string to make it dance. "How's that soul of yours treating you these days?"

Kasuka's gaze is riveted to the robot's jerky movements. "Fine."

Yep, fine. Which is about as true as Shizuo saying his resultant hangover and hazy memories about who he was actually with last night have _nothing_ to do with the fact he's finding it hard enough to cope with his own nightmares. Izaya doesn't need to know that.

"What the hell do you want, anyway?" He shakes off the shiver at that thought. "We didn't call you."

"Didn't you?"

"I think I'd remember." And he thinks he'd know if he'd broken the promise he'd sworn to himself, that'd he'd _never_ need this idiot ever again. No matter what. Still, he glances at Kasuka, just in case, but there are no traces of leftover guilt on his brother's face.

"Ah, but you _were_ drunk, ne?"

He glares, all the while scrambling back through broken memories to try and piece together what the hell he did last night. "Were you _watching_ me? Goddamn pervert…"

"It's not my fault." Izaya states. "You were the one yelling 'Oh God, Oh God' until my ears burned. What did you expect?"

"A little fucking privacy!" He snarls, only realizing how quiet the diner is when someone near the door coughs awkwardly at the ensuing silence. Sulking lower in his seat, he glowers at Izaya, albeit a little more muted than before. "I wasn't yelling for you."

"Too bad…" Izaya shrugs, and there's nothing in the gesture that ought to make heat flush across Shizuo's cheeks, but it does anyway. _Fricking creepy wannabe-God louse…_

"We're checking this thing out anyway, I don't give a shit what you say." He glances at Kasuka. "Right?"

Kasuka looked back and forth between them, before shrugging. "Right."

"You know, there was a time you would've trusted my word. Trusted _me_." Izaya sends him a sidelong look. "When we were 'family', ne?"

"Yeah. And you fucked it up."

"I told you, I did what had to be done."

"And I told you that's not how family works, goddamn flea. Family watches out for each other." He can't quite meet Kasuka's eyes when he says that, even though he knows they're way beyond that now. That it's a line that's been crossed so many times there's nothing but the faded chalk-mark where it once was. "Family doesn't screw family over to go shack up with the monsters."

Kasuka's robot tips over with a clatter. Izaya looks at him, brow raised. Shizuo's hands curl into fists and the only thing to hand he can crush is the goddamn Barbie box. Kasuka looks at his as he rights the robot, half-shrugs at the silent apology.

"None taken." Kasuka replies to the words Shizuo can't say. "That was a long time ago."

"Yeah, but…"

"Besides," Kasuka frowns at the remote control, fingers still, "if using the monsters to get what we want is a crime now, none of us are exactly innocent, Shizuo."

"You fucking _agree_ with him? Tch…" Shizuo slams the busted up pink box onto the table, folding his arms across his chest. "Are you forgetting how much he lied to me? To us?"

Kasuka shakes his head. "I remember. I just get his point."

"Whatever. Just don't expect me to start crawling back begging for fricking favours."

Izaya looks thoughtful. "You never did get on your knees for me, did you Shizu-chan? Never did bow down and profess your love and devotion. I could have made you pay dearly for that, you know."

Shizuo narrows his eyes. "I thought you already did."

Izaya nods. "Well… sacrifices are necessary in war, ne?"

"I guess so. 'cept it was never just _your_ war, flea."

For once, he wants to have the last damn word. Before Izaya can warp out or… flutter out, or whatever the hell he does now, he slams the laptop closed, handing it back to Kasuka as he stands from the booth.

"Let's go."

Kasuka nods, gathering up the dumbass robot as he follows. Izaya just watches them impassively.

By the time they're done paying the bill and stepping out into a blindingly bright, still morning, Izaya's standing by their car, coat fluttering in a non-existent breeze as he ties that ridiculous balloon to the car aerial.

"You forgot your present." Izaya places the pink box on the windscreen. "And you forgot that my war and yours were always meant to be two separate things. I love all humanity equally, right?" Hands in his pockets, Izaya strolls to the edge of the highway, turning to look back at the diner. "None of them in particular, but all of them. If that changes, then…" He tilts his head, smiles. "So do the rules of engagement, Shizu-chan. You of all people should understand how complicated it gets to play favourites."

Shizuo looks away, watching Kasuka skirt around the car and get into the passenger side. He's still pretending to play with the robot, but there's a faraway look in his eyes.

"We're going to check this out." Shizuo turns back to Izaya. "Are you coming with us?"

His answer is the sound of flapping wings, and he kicks himself for thinking, for hoping _maybe_…

"Tch…" He gets into the car, slamming the door hard. Running a hand through his hair, he glances across the interior at Kasuka. "We don't need him anyway."

"Right." Kasuka nods. "We've been doing this for a long time without him. It's no different now."

"Yeah…"

He's about to drive away when he remembers the damn box is still wedged on the windscreen. Winding down the window, he stretches to reach for it, intending to just toss it and drive off when a piece of paper tucked into the side catches his eye. Frowning, he unfolds it, wondering when the waitress reconsidered giving him her number.

It's not from the waitress. In spidery script, the scrap just says 'I'll meet you there.'

Snorting softly at Barbie before tossing her into the backseat instead, Shizuo pockets the note as he turns the key in the ignition. The powerful roar of the engine propels them back onto the highway, the wind and dust buffeting the frog balloon in a dizzying whirl.

_Separate wars my ass…_


End file.
